Work Text:
Ding! A notification wakes you from your 30-minute nap. You were completing some leftover paperwork from joining a new streaming agency, called “Slaughterhouse Losers.” You were their newest member, and you worked alongside several well-known streamers like Angelic, hitmeuppp, K9, and the most popular of them all, goreboy.
The first time you met Ronin, err—goreboy, it was over voice call. The others gave you a warm welcome, and you can remember how funny it was that you were all being served dinner by Vince, more known as Evicserator1990, in the form of pictures of his cooking. When you first heard him, goreboy, laugh over call, it sent chills down your spine. It sounded like he was an evil sorcerer from the old magical-girl-tv-shows you used to watch. It didn’t help that he dressed the part too, with his piercings and spiky collar and dyed hair and mysterious eyes and…
You roll over, groaning as you reach for your phone. You spot a couple of additions to your followers and subscribers on your Two-witch account, earning you around a solid 35,000 people who enjoy your content enough to spend money on you, maybe. It’s incomparable to the older members of the ‘Slaughterhouse Losers’ though, their following and subscriber counts are all in the hundred-thousands. Well—at least there were some people liked watching you write your dark romance fanfiction.
You scroll down and see a pop-up. You cringe when you see Ronin’s user on your notifications list, but the moment you read the entire notification, you wish you ignored it and went back to sleep.
[goreboy is streaming on Two-witch! “SUBGOAL = SHIRT OFF”]
Grimacing, you remind yourself that curiosity kills the cat. “But satisfaction always brings it back…” a voice in your head tells you. It’s definitely too early for this, at least for you. It’s around one in the afternoon where Ronin is, but for you, it’s five in the morning. You mentally debate yourself, before giving into your desires and pressing on the notification.
You’re immediately met by the sight of what looks like an outdoor garage, a yard, maybe? He’s setting up a kiddie-pool, filling it up with water. He dons his usual clothes, a black shirt with a skull on it and his red baggy jeans. You notice he isn’t wearing his jacket, most likely because of the heat. You’re a bit concerned for the guy, if you wore a black shirt in this weather, it would kill you.
"'Sup, chat." Ronin proclaims from behind the camera. "Hold'on, gimme a sec." The camera gets adjusted so the view is a bit wider. You can see his black fingernails as he repositions the lens, before being met with his face. There's a devious grin on it, and you have an uneasy feeling he has a plan.
"So..." his whole body is in view now as he points finger-guns at the small inflatable pool. The chatbox starts moving ridiculously fast as they mention his 'Spiderman crocs' and his 'LOSE tattoo' on his right arm. Their messages are all about how the former throws off his entire emo Olympics look, and how the latter makes him hotter.
Ronin raises an eyebrow. "No need t'get so fuckin' crazy about it. You guys're actin' like you're in the Victorian age seein' ankles." he smirks at the camera, cocking his head to the left. The chatbox is left in a frenzy again, and when you check Tweeter, "RONIN SHIRTLESS STREAM" and "HE"S SO HOT" are trending. You observe him closely, interested in the games he's playing with his followers. You zone out as he reiterates what's mentioned in the stream title. He'd make a great dark romance love interest, if he were a serial killer. Maybe.
Ronin pulls out his phone to be able to read the donations and messages left by his fans. He speaks, voice full of sarcasm and amusement "Well, look at who we have here...darlin' writer'?"
The way he says your username rolls off his pierced tongue. If your face flushes the same color as his hair, you don't tell. You click the "Gift Subs" button, typing out a message in chat for him to read out. At this rate, he'll empty your bank account.
Ronin noticed your message, throwing his head back to cackle at your fierceness. "'Jus' helpin' out your charity case.' Thank you for the 50 gifted then, writer darlin'." He switches the position of the two words in your username, "darlingwriter." The streamer's voice drips with faux sweetness, it almost sounds as if he's...calling you his darling. You shake your head rapidly, refusing to acknowledge you could ever feel attracted to this man.
Another one of your fellow streamers gifts subscribes to those watching Ronin. You can see how his face lights up when he talks; "Vince! Thank you for the hundred gifted. Seriously dude, big fan of your work." He simultaneously clicks his tongue, tilts his head, and winks at the camera in an attempt to jokingly capture Vince's heart.
If your gut twisted out of slight jealousy, you made sure to not let it show. He was only kidding, after all. Vince has mentioned several times on stream that he has a wife, especially when he received that one message on Valentine's asking "do you have a date?" while live. You ease up at the memory.
"Oh?" Ronin perks, looking at his phone once more. "Hey there, Luca." Luca, or "LUCA_IS_SO_COOL", was another friend of yours. He doesn't stream as often anymore, but that's mainly because he prefers hanging out privately with his girlfriend, Felicie.
Ronin reads out the highlighted text in the chat, a note left by Luca. Ronin coughs into his balled up fist, grinning. "'Dip your toes in the water, Ro!'" The burgundy-haired man looks at the camera, then at his feet. "'m giving these to you guys for free, technically." Just as he's about to remove his crocs, he dramatically stops and glares right into the lens. "No screenshots."
Quickly, he takes off his footwear and submerges both his feet in the water. "Whoo—that is cold."
The livestream continues. There's a strange, soft look in your eyes when you watch him, talking and chatting with everyone. It's been an hour now, and he's only a few more subscribers away before the sub-goal is reached. You drop your phone on your face, accidentally exiting the full-screen mode you've kept it on for the duration of the stream. The "subscribe" button on your end has yet to be clicked.
You cave in, letting him win your game of sarcasm-tag. You click the button and it appears on screen that he's reached his goal. You smile, small and faint, but it's sincere and you think about how Ronin shares the same smile as you.
"Says here my latest sub is @..darlingwriter. Aww...you really do love me, don't ya?" He teases, live, in front of 400,000 people. The streamer truly has no shame, casually flirting with you in front of everyone. You start typing on your phone, a message sent with a $50 donation. You silently plead to the world to keep your bank account intact.
His eyebrows perk up. "Take your shirt off." His mouth is agape, but the messages in the chatbox agree with you, egging him to do it, remove his shirt.
"Alas, the things I do f'r money." He sits cross-legged in the pool, positioning himself so his upper body is seen in the camera. He removes his beanie first, the plastic horns clacking as the piece of clothing hits the floor. The light red color of his jeans turn a dark red as they come in contact with the water. The streamer grabs his shirt by the collar, lifting it up.
His stomach is exposed first. Then, the scars on his chest. His shoulders follow.
You take in the sight before you. Ronin throws his shirt over his shoulder, extending his arms out ever-so slightly, as if tempting you and the many others watching to keep staring. The waistband of his underwear is seen, the branding splattered across the black fabric. "What? Too perfect for ya to describe?" he adds on.
Sighing, you give in. At this moment you decide that yes, you're flirting back, accepting his invitation to sin. As if those collarbones and pelvic muscles aren't as sinful already.
"A thousand!" the phone pings, signaling someone just donated a thousand dollars to him. Ronin's awestruck, his eyebrows furrowed as he tilts his head. He reads out the message you left behind. "The pants go next."
His eyes widen as he cackles once more, surprised and entertained by your idea of matching his humor. He claps his hands as he calms down from his fit of laughter.
"The stream ends here. Thanks f'r watchin'."
The last thing you see is his mirthful smirk and eyes before a "stream ended :(" screen shows. Exhaling shakily, you roll over, stuffing your head in your pillow and screaming, kicking your legs as you do so. You regret it as you remember you have neighbors. The lady next door might think twice about gifting you sunset decor now.
Checking your phone, "PANTS NEXT" is trending on Tweeter. Groaning, you check the 'Slaughterhouse Losers' server. Someone pinged you.
<goreboy> [06:43]
check dms
You hesitate, not knowing what to expect. Moving your finger towards you and Ronin's direct messages, you click it and quickly avert your eyes.
Slowly, you look back, overdramatic. Your jaw drops. It's an image. Ronin's shirtless in the picture, just like in the stream, but you notice how his abdomen is much more defined, how he flexes his biceps unnecessarily, how he's gazing at the camera dark and wanting. You confirm your thought about how he'd be a great dark romance love interest.
<darlingwriter> [06:50]
fuck
<goreboy> [06:50]
you owe me now
good Luck ;)